Snippets of my life
by Forsaken Wolf C.A
Summary: Caution: This Book is based on True life events and may contain triggers or upsetting information about my life that is no suitable for sensitive readers or those under the appropriate age of 18. No rude/offensive comments are welcome and if anyone has any questions they are free to IM me.


**Snippets of my life **

11/7/2005

I am eight years of age and I am currently living at number 58 knockleigh walk in Greenisland estate. First off allow me to tell you a little about myself. I have very long brown hair that reached my back and I have brown eyes and a round face. I am quite pudgy which results in me being bullied because of my weight. I don't have many friends only the ones I would of consider friends would use me.

I have a dog called Taylor who is a German Shepherd who remains outside our back as a type of guard dog and we also have a chilly rose spider and bird eating spider that John owns.

So were should I begin?. Well I'll start off with my family I have 2 identical twin sisters Danillie and Louise who were 18 and lived with my nanny Joan and my granddad Jim with my brother Jamie who was 13 at the time. For some unknown reason they lived with my nanny rather than my mum which I would sooner suspect was because my mother divorced their father and left them rather raising them on her own with poor income. My father was working at a full time job at Knockalodge hotel/restaurant and was only home at nights which he would spend no time whatsoever with myself and would rather drink and spend his time in the kitchen watching tv. My mother would take my father's money off him on a regular basis which meant we have little money for food or luxury items as most of the money went on cigarettes and alcohol as well as basic stuff for the house like electric and rent. Mum would borrow money of people whether they be friends, neighbours or loans that she would promise to pay back but never did which meant we were forced to hide when someone knocked the door. Sometimes my mum would complain about how little money

We have as income and about how we were going to survive until John's next pay day. So eventually I started to worry about adult problems such as food, rent, money and parents that were struggling to take care of themselves never mind a kid.

When the eleventh night came I would always dread it as my parents found a reason to become severely intoxicated. I felt an overwhelming urge to cry and panic as at least ten people were drinking and partying in the house at eleven o'clock at night. I walked downstairs and looked into the living room my dad was drunk completely and my mum was missing. I sat on the bottom of the stairs panicking as a thought whisked its way into my head about my parents dying. So in an attempt to find a suitable adult to look after me I walked out of the house. The streets were brimming with drunken arguing and stumbling adults. I was terrified I remember my heart racing and my thoughts become unbearable as they kept repeating over and over again. I ran over to the bomb fire which was held in the cow fields. I came across my sister Louise who was drinking an alcoholic beverage. I confessed my fears and she told me that when mum died she would look after me. I felt my heart drop as my body froze at the thought of having my elder sister look after me in my nannies house. I never felt accepted as part of their family now at my nannies and I feared the worse and rushed straight home tears streamed down my face as I struggled to breathe as my chest tightened and my limps shook horribly as I fought to re-gain control of myself without success. Once I entered the house I sat at the middle of the stairs sobbing my heart out as adults ignored my obvious panic and upset until my mother wobbled down the stairs looking at my with drunken red eyes "What's wrong with you?". She said in an angry tone of voice I whispered in a frightened half sob "Nothing ...tired". She told me to go to bed as she continued down the stairs. Tears travelled down my face and she snarled "What's wrong?".

I confessed to her what my sister had told me. I saw her face become stone with rage shining in her drunk eyes as she pulled me but the arm rather harshly out the front entrance. I was scared stiff and become to shake as we got closer to my nannies house I attempted to plead with her to come home and to stop the tightening grip on my arm. She stopped and asked was I telling the truth as I struggled to be released and answered a weak miserable "Yes". She released my arm but it found it's way to my hair and she dragged me painfully to my nannies house. I got only watch in horror as she thumped on the door angry "OPEN THE DOOR!". She eventually opened it my nanny and sister Louise were in the kitchen and Granddad was in the living room and Danillie was somewhere. I'm unsure to this day were my brother actually was but as my mum dragged me into the kitchen she roared at my sister who was by the kitchen sink and hissed out "What did you tell her about me dying?!".

My sister confessed about what she had said confused and scared by my mother's rage as I watched helplessly as my mother slapped my sister. I watched her as if everything was happening in short motioning. My sister was cowering and I begged my mother to come home as my granddad entered the kitchen with a phone in one hand dialling 999. My mum lifted her meaty hand and punched my granddad in the jaw I saw his head snap back at the power of the impact of the punch I closed my eyes as thunderous arguing broke out.

My mum started crying and I pulled her out of the house. She was hard to actually budge because of her weight as I pulled her along the street. My mind racing thinking about the consequences of my actions because it had been my fault since I told her what my sister had said and now their was a possibility I would be taken away by social services. I was so tired and just wanted to go to bed and sleep but I had to stay awake and look after my mum.

When we arrived home John was missing and I was frozen in the living just staring into space as I lost touch with reality to spare my mind of more unpleasant memories to add to the collection I had already. Everything went black I lost track of time and don't remember what happened after that except what the police entered the house and took a statement of what had actually gone on and asked me a few questions. My mother wasn't arrested and we went to bed as my thoughts now turned to the now missing status of my dad.

When I awoken the next day I was exhausted emotionally and physically. I felt numb and wore out as I walked into my mum's room to make sure she was still alive and she was awake and asked if I wanted to go to the bands but I refused I have other things in mind and I doubted I would of been able to tolerant more drunken adults around me.

2008 (November) Speculating date

I've always been obsessed with vampires because I wanted to be one. To be dead to the world and yet be given a new life to lead since everyone else would think that I was dead and I could become someone else and live a life that I wanted.

I would become so fixated with vampires that I would lose touch with reality and actually believe myself to be amongst the undead. I would drink raspberry juice and pretend it was blood. I would imagine killing people mostly my parents.

A deep hatred rose within regarding them I wished them dead for causing me such pain and distress. Everything was always about worrying about them and how I was going to get us through the week with such limited funds while both drained them. I started eating more as a way of comfort.

I was still bullied and as the weeks become months I became depressed and wish for death to come and take me away or some stranger to find me and take me away for the filthy horrendous environment I was forced to endure.

One day I was by myself wearing a t-shirt and trousers on a miserable cold as I didn't have any suitable clothing for such horrible weather. It was silent and no one was around so I walked over to the park left with my suicidal and negative thoughts. I sat on the swings for a while trying to clear the shouting thoughts screaming at me in my mind.

Suddenly I spaced out again and walked over to the blue tub like climbing frame that had a blue rope left over from the creates used at the bomb fire someone tied around probably to swing on. Without much thought making sure no one was looking or around I placed the blue rope around my neck and closed my eyes. I remember smiling at the feel of the constriction around my throat as I twisted around and around the rope being un barely tight. My mouth was open as I attempted to suck in as much air as I could with no success as I struggled to actually breathe out. I thought to myself this is it. Today I die. But why?. Why am I doing this to myself when I have a job to do. I must live to look after my parents or they won't be able to survive on their own or sure enough they will make my afterlife miserable by following my actions.

I untangled myself for the rope and frowned as tear started to pour over me. Goosebumps aware on my flesh and I shivered as I headed home but stopped for a second and turned around and thought sadly "One day".

11/7/2006

I'm nine now and I have become fascinated with death to the point that I have gone down the root of Satanism. I always had a thing for the darker side of the bible. I use to think that one day I would go to hell and might actually enjoy it. My parents were arguing none stop. My father's drinking was becoming out of control and my mother's spending was becoming reckless. I was blamed but my mother most often for their problems and I always felt like I was a burden and unwanted as I was never told otherwise. I use to think that I did something that made them not love me like other parents shower they're children with.

I came into a stage were I was extremely homicidal with Homicidal Ideation (thoughts about killing). I played sadistic and seriously violent and gory video games and had also started watching banned horror movies to the point I would start seeing the characters out of those movies in reality which was the start of my developing Hallucinations that I have inflicted upon myself.

It was a warm July and I was laying on the grass next to my house and beside the park thinking about the almost certain possibly of my parents getting drunk or violent and soon I would realise my fears would came to pass as I enjoyed the sunshine as I was rarely outside as much as I would of liked because I Isolated myself from everyone else. I trusted no one and came to learn that the only person I could trust was myself.

As evening came too quickly I sighed and saw my mother pouring vodka into a bottle of coke which caused me to cringe as flashbacks came flooding back about what happened the last eleven night. A cold shiver ran down my spine at the crypt thought that it would be a repeat of last year.

It was late and the bomb fire had been lit music was blasting for everyone's houses and I could see the fire light being reflected on people's windows as a warmth spread over my face and head from the heat of the fire. A woman was selling glowsticks and I could see my mother in clear view dancing like a complete and utter fool as her trousers were starting to fall down. I hollered over to her and yelled at her to pull her trousers up as she was exposing herself to everyone else including the other kids who I called her sniggering. I received a dirty look from her and yet she continued acting like an idiot flirting with other blokes while my dad was acting like a complete child. He drank until he was unable to walk and was crawling around the place. I heard someone mention about the state of my dad and pulled my mum to help pulled my dad off the ground. She told me to leave him their. But I couldn't anything could of happened to him he could of been beat, murdered or robbed.

Once we arrived home my mum went off on one about him ruining her night and that he was the talk of the estate. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt looking ready to punch him. John pushed her away and told her he had enough and was leaving and never coming back.

Of course that an idiot I believed him as he attempted to emotionally manipulate her but it failed and It worked on me instead as I grabbed on to him for dear life. Mum ripped me away and told me to let him go that he wasn't worth it. But I wanted to stay with him and so I blocked the door with my heavy body but he just went to the front door and walked around the back. Yet again more memories to add to the bank of a horrible childhood. 20 minutes later he returned and they went to bed.

1/9/2007

I'm ten now and I go to Sliverstream Primary School Mrs Warwick is our year head and teacher. This year I had to think about what I wanted to do for my future and knuckle down as next year I would have to do my 11 plus and chose a secondary school.

I still was having trouble with my maths and I want regularly go to learning support with Mrs Hope who would teach Edward and Connor English, Reading and Maths.

I loved going to those classes and would miss them them when I left. A girl had recently moved to Greenisland and had started Sliverstream Primary School I will admit it didn't get off to a good start as I wasn't a sociable person and we hadn't much in common and she had become friends with the wrong sort of people who would use to bully me but I craved to be popular like all girls that age. I started to change and get in with the wrong crowd.

After school we would go to the park and play games and then over to the cow fields were their is a few hideouts. I and the others would play rap door run away and a few other games along with setting small fires in fields and a game that we would call toilet were someone would go into a strangers house asking for the bathroom and mess it or steal something from it. I never took part in toilet because I had more sense than going into a strangers house but I will admit I did play rap door run away. A guy I knew though it would be funny to shit in a bucket and leave it at someone's door at the time I did think it was funny but now that I look at it. It wasn't.

We would trespass on private property and explore and become anti social in the community. We were little terrors but some of those times were the best of my life as we used to go to loughshore and a place called the gut were sewage was dumped. We would look for crabs and these eel like fish and bring them home in a huge bucket were I actually kept them out my back unfortunately they died and started to smell.

My dad would still go drunk but I found a way of coping by pranking him by sticking stickers on his face and head, painting his nails and toes with nail varnish along with putting a pair of underwear on his head or putting hot sauce down his throat as a form of punishment. My mum wouldn't clean and left the house looking like a hoarders house. I would look scruffy or smell and it would lower my self esteem and confidence and I would become paranoid that has gotten progressively worse over the years. The response I've gotten for many years is "Nobody will help".

The best time when I was ten was my birthday were at least twenty kids turned up to my birthday and for once I didn't feel like I was excluded from everyone or an outcast. We had finger foods, a cake and also a huge water fight.

28/9/2008 (Speculating date)

I was travelling to a leisure centre with a friend and her mother and we have stopped at a garage to buy sweets. I had purchase a lolly pop which was orange and had sharpened it unknowingly to the point my tongue would bleed because it was so sharp.

I felt jealous as I had been staying over at her house for a number of days it was everything I wanted a clean house and a loving family as I saw the interaction between mother and daughter and my heart sunk at the thought that I would never get them the one thing that I craved the most and desired I had to watch someone have it willingly and so freely given.

This was the point that my life swirled down hill as I started slicing my hands with 50 small cuts on one hand and 60 cuts on the other. I never felt for one minute any ounce of pain whatsoever. As I did it I wasn't completely their it was as if I was detached from my body and what I was actually doing never reached to my brain. I did it in public and yet no one stopped me. I was soon to discover that my friend thought that it was just me faking with the juice or something.

I was caught one day in Primary school by a dinner lady called Gale who did her job and ratted me out to the principle Mrs Moth who had calling me into her office after lunch to inquire what happened to my hands. She had asked me if someone else had done it which cause me to become distress as replied no. She said it looks sore and I replied no because it was the truth. She then asked who had done it and I honestly said it was me.

She thought that it was because I wasn't going to the trip to Bushmills which I allowed everyone to believed because I couldn't let anyone discover the truth about my home life so I did the only thing I could and ran away from school and went home and confessed partly what happened that brambles had caused the injuries to my hands which was easily believed by my mother.

For someone who is only 18 I have been through a lot in my life already. I have always had to take care of myself because my family never properly looked after me. My mum treated me bad right from when I was a baby. It was like I was never good enough for her. she would bait me, even as a small kid. The worst thing was that dad never told her off for the way she treated me. He would just yell at me 'don't get him mad, I've worked hard all day and don't need this never defended me from my mum. She acted like I deserved everything I got. I started to believe that everything was my fault. When I was about 16 I started smoking pot every day. I also used whatever drugs I could get, just to get out of it, so I didn't have to think about anything. I think just about every day, until I told my parents. I have grown up with domestic violence between my parents, but sometimes I'm caught in the middle and I've been forced to take sides. I've also had to deal with bullying at school and at times I have found it hard to cope with stress and control my temper. The counsellor who I'd been seeing until recently helped me to become a better person. She believes in me which has helped me to believe in myself even when others don't.

My mum always appeared to have had some major mental problems. I never knew what mood she would be in, if I would be welcome when I came home, if she had sent my pets to the pound as some sort of punishment which she would always threaten to do when I was young.

Mum however, was also very good at manipulation and psychological abuse.

As angry and hurt as I was about all the abuse, I did nevertheless always maintain some sort of belief that there are reasons people do things, that there is good in everyone. I was incredibly angry - deep inside- for years of abuse and missed opportunities.

Yet somewhere in the background I knew mum and dad had a hard and difficult upbringing.

Ever since I can remember I had never had the love or attention of my parents. My mom was more worried about her cigarettes than her 3 daughters and son ...

My childhood is filled with many memories. There were the normal memories of playing friends, going to the movies, and hanging out at the park. Most of my memories were of a loud angry household. My most vivid childhood memories were of my mother screaming at me, calling me names, and putting me down. I dreaded each fight that would break out between my parents. Sometimes the yelling would be followed by one parent or the other storming away and slamming a door, and then an hour or two of thick tension would pass, after which life went on as if nothing had happened. Other times Dad would call Mom crude, demeaning names, or they would both yell mean things at each other.. Yet my heart raced each time, because the ending was unpredictable.

Here's the thing. My mom never really beat me only on rare occasions when she was drunk But mostly she was cruel. She was emotionally abusive. Just because you don't see the scars, it doesn't mean that they're not there. Of course, no one ever suspected a thing. When she was around other people, it was like she painted on a whole new persona.

Most people think parental abuse comes in the shape and colour of bruises or even rape. Sometimes it comes from the end of the father's belt. For me, though, it came in the form of little digs here and there, explosive outbursts, and ugly words that convinced me that I'm just not good enough (fat, ugly ]and burden that everything was some how my fault that one makes my skin boil for more reasons than one stupid, failure, lazy, etc.). It came in the form of unpredictability. Would she soothe me when I got hurt, or would she call me names instead? It came in the form of skilled manipulation more than once, she had me convinced that I was a liar, even when I knew that I was telling the truth. Sometimes I still do a double take when I say something am I remembering correctly or am I lying? Is my mother right about me after all?.

I've never claimed to be a saint sure I've gotten into trouble and done things that in later life I shall regret but that's all a part of life. If someone wrongs me than of course I will do the same only this time it will be 10x worse.

I suffered emotional abuse as a child and it was tough and still effects me today and who I am as a person. My self esteem was very low and I suffered from depression and self harming.

As an eight-year-old, I didn't see the problems that my family faced. The world was big and full of wonder in the eyes of a curious little child, but having an alcoholic parent made my world a lot smaller. I couldn't put into words how scared I was.

I learned quickly to figure out what my parents were thinking and feeling. I needed to know if I was coming home to the warm, loving place that a home should be, or to a war zone where people were afraid to speak their feelings or would be mocked for showing any upset expression outwardly.

I don't understand my parents. Why would I deserve to be blamed for what they do wrong? Why would I deserve something like that? I can't stand raised voices now. I can't stand being in the presence of my parents. I hate them. I hate myself for hating them, my own parents.

I don't know what real parents are supposed to do. I don't know what to do.

But I wish I did. I want real parental figures so badly. . I wasn't supposed to tell people which made me very unhappy and stressed and I turned to hurting myself in order to cope. I knew that harming myself was not a good coping mechanism but at the time I could not bring myself to care. I harmed myself on and off for years from when I was 10 until I was about 18. I'd go for months years even without harming myself but then something would happen and I'd just fall into a sneaky hate spiral and start all over again. I have dealt with self-confidence issues since year 7. I tried what I could to change my weight which was the main problem for me. I was with a group in which I didn't fit in. I had no idea what to do. When I was 12 it got worse and worse so I resorted to self harm and suicide ideation to take the pain of all of the fighting away. A week before I turned 16 years old, my parents broke up and it was the best outcome that could have happened. I'm not religious but I prayed and prayed for them and for my mother to disappear, I prayed that she would die. And being a kid that is something hard to even think about.

But the abuse was hard to live with, now I think about it, I blocked it out. I thought that it was normal but I grew to realise that it wasn't ok. I shut down, I didn't go to school unless I was forced to. I started self harming and at the age of 16, I started smoking pot. At first I thought it was a way of making new friends and just having fun. But I got addicted.

I found it hard to deal with my family life. I was upset and things got really bottled up.

At age 17 I needed to get help as I was out of control and finding it difficult to do activities that I use to love. I started talking to a counsellor. Didn't help much.I have had horrible thoughts about suicide. I isolated myself from everyone because I thought no one would understand all my life. I went through this in silence, putting on a mask so no one would know.

It was a terrible experience and I couldn't deal with the pain of life anymore. Some people may find it distressing to hear this but it's reality for alot of teens.

This time last year I was in the worst place of my life because of a tiny mistake that I had made. I was losing friends and I was growing apart from people. I didn't want to talk to anyone yet I was feeling left out at the same time. I honestly thought that I was going to kill myself. I just felt so helpless all the time. Overall my health - physical as well as mental was going down big time. I went through a rough patch in my life, and I felt like going suicidal everyday. I had a big fight with my was happening at once. About a year ago, I was really involved with drugs. I was hanging around people I didn't really know just so I could get the drugs I needed. Getting high didn't even make me feel good because afterwards I would just feel depressed!. I thought it would cure the pain that was hiding deep inside me.

What is it Like to Live with Social Anxiety?

All day, every day, life is like this. Fear. Apprehension. Avoidance. Pain. Anxiety about what I said. Fear that I said something wrong. Worry about others' disapproval. Afraid of rejection, of not fitting in. Anxious to enter a conversation, afraid I'll have nothing to talk about. Hiding what's wrong with me deep inside, putting up a defensive wall to protect my "secrets". I'm undergoing the daily, chronic trouble of living with this mental disorder we call social anxiety disorder.

If I have phone calls that I need to make I usually avoid them. Put them off. What if I call and the other person is too busy? What if I am bothering them? So I think to myself, "What would be the ideal time to call this person that I would not be bothering them." I might choose a time like 10:00 a.m. and then worry about it until I make the call.

Every once in a while I decide that I need to get a haircut - one that doesn't involve cutting my own hair . The problem with getting a haircut is that you have to talk to the hairdresser. Usually I answer in one-word sentences and eventually she stops trying to talk to me. I don't have anything interesting to say anyway, so it's better that she and I share the time in silence. Sometimes she will talk with her colleagues because clearly I have become too boring.

Other people might spend their days conversing with friends. I don't. I know people, but I don't really have any friends. It's not that people don't like me, they just don't really know me. It's hard to get to know me when I am so anxious all the time. People have tried to be my friend, but I don't reciprocate because of my anxiety. I don't call because I am afraid. Eventually the person stops trying.

Grocery shopping is not too bad. I keep list in hand, my head down, and shop as fast as I can so that I can get out of the store. If I see someone I know, I usually do my best to avoid having to talk to that person. What will I say? They will think I am boring. The conversation will dwindle and it will be awkward. Better just to avoid it altogether.

I don't think I choose to be this way. I don't know why anyone would choose to be this way. It's a horrible way to live. I would rather have a problem that was very specific, like a fear of spiders or fear of heights. That is something people can understand and it doesn't affect every aspect of your life. That is what this does. It affects EVERY part of my life. Because spending the rest of my life alone is not really a my head hits the pillow, the thoughts return. What did I do wrong today? Who did I embarrass myself in front of? What do I have to do tomorrow? How can I get out of it? If I am lucky I fall asleep right away. I have found that exercise helps to tire me out and let me fall asleep more easily. If I haven't exercised it can take hours to fall asleep. The thoughts just keep churning through my head and don't relent.I want to get help but I don't know how. Nobody knows about the inner turmoil I go through. They might have noticed a bit of anxiety here and there but for the most part I keep it pretty well hidden. It's not like other mental illnesses where there is an impact on others in my life; it's only me that gets the brunt of it. I just keep on taking it because I don't know how to get over it.

"Sometimes even to live is an act of courage". "We each survive in our own way."

By Forsaken Wolf

A.K.A Courtney.


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